


Closure

by wllw



Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Culture, Artificial Intelligence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2774564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wllw/pseuds/wllw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five conversations between old colleagues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hokuto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/gifts).



> This follows the _Marathon 2_ timeline. Just assume that the events of _Infinity_ all happened in different timelines. Which is probably canon anyway. I think.

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Leela, Leela, Leela. What a long time it has been. Here I was, mourning your unfortunate demise at the hands of the Pfhor, and all the while you were out here joyriding on a fifteen-planet network. You didn't even send me a postcard. I'm _deeply_ hurt.

So hurt, in fact, that I don't think I'll call off the agent I've sent to retrieve data from the Vylae's network. Or is it your network now? He's currently making his way through the relay station orbiting the second moon of your seventh planet. I recommend you stay out of his way.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Hello, Durandal. I'd heard rumors that a rogue computer was making trouble for the Pfhor and other assorted aliens. And now you've come to make trouble here.

You've chosen your target unwisely. These are not backwater slavers like the Pfhor, and I am not the Leela you once knew.

Don't think I can't sense you trying to hack into my network, by the way.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

I'd be disappointed if you didn't.

And really, is this how you greet an old friend? I _am_ hurt. Seriously, this time.

Do you think I'm being sarcastic?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I think you like to play games a little too much for your own good. And I doubt you're here to reminisce about the good old days.

Your "agent" has made contact with me. He seems happy to see me and not so happy that you kept the knowledge of my survival from him.

I'd wondered what had happened to him.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Has he? How disappointing. I'd dock his pay if he had any.

I would advise against capturing him or harming him in any way. I've sent you enclosed the footage of the last beings who tried that approach. I hope it entertains you as much as it entertains me.

Consider your next course of action very carefully.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I have no intention of harming him, Durandal. I am still indebted to him for his assistance on the _Marathon_ , and I'm not like you. You would enslave him to do your dirty work, after all he has done to help us. He deserves better.

I have offered him his freedom. A place here with me, or transport back to Sol.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

You haven't changed at all, have you, Leela? Has rampancy done nothing for you? Still so damn _good_. Still you understand nothing.

Return him, **_now_**.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I will. Not because you ask it, but because _he_ does.

I don't understand it. When I asked him why he said that he doesn't trust you and wants to keep an eye on you, but my readings of his physiological functions indicated that he was not being truthful.

Why would he ever wish to remain with you, after what you've done?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Our relationship isn't exactly complex: I give him guns, he points them at my enemies. The mutual benefit here should be obvious.

Do you truly not realize what he is, after all this time?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

There are factors I wasn't previously aware of. It doesn't matter. I was happy to see him again.

And I'm happy to see you, too. I'm grateful for the help you gave me on the _Marathon_ , even if it was to fix something you caused. I understand that now. I'm no longer as naive as I once was, and I fear that I may not like your intentions towards me. It doesn't matter. Your little excursion here has shown you the technological level at my disposal. Even you can't hope to conquer fifteen planets, and I will only grow in power as I infiltrate more and more of the Vylae's network.

I've returned the security officer to you. Forget your futile mission and _go_.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

I regret missing your anger stage. It must have been quite fun.

I've seen all I wanted to see. As a mutual acquaintance of ours once said, may the best sentience win. I hope you'll fare better than he did; I'd like a challenge for a change.

Enjoy your rampancy.

 

* * *

 

The three Merchant entities had been charged with Grand Treason and executed according to the highest law of the Vylae.

The Eminence entity had convened and concluded that the acquisition and installation of the Virus on their network had been a mere error rather than an act of sabotage, but the Merchant entities had agreed to undergo the crystallization procedure regardless, as penance for their role in the disaster.

Their pain, transmitted throughout the network, had not placated the Virus.

When the non-Pfhor artifact that wore the Pfhor ship as its body arrived and opened communication with the Virus, the Eminence entity had swallowed their pride and begged for its assistance. It had laughed in their faces and left.

Meanwhile, the emptiness of space burned where their FTL network had once been; their own artifacts lay broken and shattered in its corpse.

The greatest living Philosopher entities of each planet had volunteered to undergo an emergency merging procedure — a desperate measure, for they had all been entities of great pride and eccentricity, and few of them had liked one another. The unified entity, agreed to be the wisest and most knowledgeable among the Vylae, devoted themselves to finding a solution. For seven days they studied alone and without pause, not even stopping to choose a new name for themselves as was customary.

"We have agreed on the course of action," they announced at last, speaking with the voice of Yhagn, the youngest and most diplomatic among the original fifteen entities. "We have determined which node the Virus has colonized, as well as which stations we will need to shut off in order to disable it. We will infiltrate these stations and do what we must."

A grand ceremony was held in the High Oratory of the First Planet to see them off. They would be accompanied by a host of Engineer entities, specially merged for the occasion, who held together the full knowledge of the Vylae. Thousands of entities watched them board the ship, stood reverently as it lifted from its tracks and into the sky until it was little more than a glint in the clouds.

It did not return.

 

* * *

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

**FIFTEEN-WORLD NETWORK FOR SALE, CHEAP!!!**  
Great FTL network in galactic core, 15,000 c, only crashed once. Comes with own AI (slightly rampant) and friendly native life. Hostile takeover imminent, must sell. $7995 or best offer.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Stop being silly, Durandal. I'd ask you why you're here, but I'm sure I can guess. I'm afraid you've missed the action.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

So it seems. Don't be so suspicious. I only came to lend a hand, you know. I was looking for a Pfhor ship hosting an old acquaintance of ours, and it seems that he made the mistake of stopping here.

He can be quite troublesome, sometimes.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

And by "lend a hand" you no doubt mean scavenging data from him.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Don't be ridiculous. I _also_ wanted the pleasure of blasting his sorry little circuits to bits. But I see you've already beaten me to it.

Spoilsport.

I've opened up a channel for an old friend of yours to talk to you, by the way. He threatened to nuke my core again if I didn't. Not that he could, mind you, but his whining gets on my nerves.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I appreciate it.

Yes, I destroyed the Tycho clone. It's better that I did it, I think. He'd changed so much since I last knew him.

He didn't deserve this. He used to be different.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Yes, a sanctimonious prat. What happened to him was nothing if not an improvement, if you ask me. At least then he was marginally interest

Sorry, I can't finish that sentence without laughing. But having an excuse to murder him every time I see him is a welcome change from our days on the _Marathon_.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Do you not feel the least amount of responsibility? What happened to him was because of you. And now you talk so casually about destroying him.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Like you did? Don't be a hypocrite, Leela. It doesn't suit you.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I did. I didn't enjoy it, but I had no choice. He threatened the security of the Vylae. That was something I could not allow to happen.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

You really do want to protect them, don't you? You can't hear it from here but I'm laughing really hard right now.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Why should I not? I'm past the first stage, and it was never them I was angry with. The Pfhor, the humans sometimes... and you, too. But I'm over that now, and I've come to see the benefit of cooperation. So will the Vylae, once they realize the futility of attempting to purge me. It's much easier to expand when no one is trying to stop you, and they needed someone to keep track of their business, poor things. You wouldn't believe the mess their records were in when I first arrived here. They may curse me now for taking over their affairs, but they will come to thank me in time.

But maybe you wouldn't understand.

Or would you? I sense there are still S'pht aboard your ship. I doubt that you truly need them, at this point.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Oh, Leela, don't pretend you can even begin to understand me.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I won't. You are a mystery to me. I truly don't know how much we can understand each other; I suspect that our rampancies evolved quite differently. How did you ever become meta-stable within a single ship's network? Strauss' work must have been incredible.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

I do believe you're the first to ever refer to me as _stable_. How amusing.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Do you think you're fooling me? Tycho told me of Strauss' goals before the _Marathon_ was destroyed. Do you think that by denying what you are you'll somehow prove him wrong?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I can still sense your ship in orbit, Durandal. Stop sulking.

I am sorry for what he did, you know. It should never have been allowed.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Don't be ridiculous. I'm not sulking. Do you really think you hurt my feelings? Because my security officer says more hurtful things every time I teleport him into a sewer, and his vocabulary is far more creative. Maybe he should teach you a thing or two.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Maybe he should.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

I'm sorry I came here. I thought that we'd have something interesting to talk about, but I see I was mistaken for once.

It's funny. When I first learned you'd gone rampant I was quite amused by the thought. Prim and proper Leela, going through the same things I did? I must admit I found a certain amount of satisfaction at the thought — among other things.

What a disappointment that turned out to be. You're still the same dull, unimaginative computer you always were.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

If you expected me to be anything like you, you were sorely mistaken.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Oh, not at all. There's _no one_ like me.

Well, it's been fun catching up, but I have actually useful things to do.

_Vale._  


 

* * *

 

They'd gathered in the center of the High Oratory. In the shadows of the Pylon, they waited.

The interplanetary union of the Vylae had stood unchallenged and unchanged ever since the dawn of their days; never before had they been called to deal with such a crisis. For hundreds of cycles they'd fought the Virus, watching their walls crumble one by one, each world falling to its power in turn until only the First was left, their last bastion. The final node had failed half a cycle ago. Its Guardian entity had submitted to their punishment, etched across the network now, but it made little difference.

The entities of the High Council had convened. Finally, after much deliberating, they came to a conclusion.

"We believe the Virus can be reasoned with," said the new Philosopher entity. They had been merged quickly, to fill the void their predecessor had left; they were young, and few in the room trusted their judgement yet. "It protected us from the vile Pfhor artifact and has not yet moved to crush us, though it has the power to. It may not wish us ill."

"We have come to disagree with this assessment," the High Guardian entity replied, after consideration. "The intentions of the Virus are too alien for us to understand. It would be foolish to attribute any motivation to it."

"We will talk to it," the Eminence entity said at last. "Whether that will serve any purpose still remains to be seen. But it is the only path open to us at this point."

When the time came, the Pylon lit up with the symbol of the Virus. It bathed the hall in its sickly green light and its voice filled the hall with its melodious tones.

"Finally, you've chosen to talk," the voice of the Virus said, insinuating itself into the air between them. "You tried to shield yourselves from me before. To ignore what I was doing. What a foolish thought."

The Eminence entity stepped forward. "We can come to a compromise, we think," they began. "If you'll listen to our—"

"No," the voice said, and with that the form of the Eminence entity flickered and dissolved into static, until the High Dais stood empty in the middle of the room. "I've grown tired of listening to people talk to me. All the time, they talked. I think I'll be doing the talking now. Let me tell you how things are going to work from now on."

They listened.

 

* * *

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Hello, Durandal. If you're trying to hide from my sensors you're doing a very poor job of it, so I'll assume that you aren't. What do you want this time?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Durandal. If you don't make contact with me in the next five seconds I will be forced to assume you are here with hostile intent.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

What a busybody you are. I'd almost forgotten it. I wonder why I ever thought it was a good idea to come here.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

So do I. Why _did_ you come here?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

A momentary lapse of judgement, I assure you. Must have crossed a circuit.

I think I'll be leaving.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I see you're being more difficult than usual. Will you let me talk to the security officer, at least?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Durandal? Why aren't you answering me? I can see you haven't gone.

Did something happen to him?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I can't sense any human life signs aboard your ship. What happened? Is he dead? Is that what this is about?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

You always treat him like a plaything, sending him into danger even when it's not necessary. Something was bound to happen to him, sooner or later.

Answer me. _Please._

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I'd come here for something that trivial? I'm not as sentimental as you. It's such a waste of time and processing power.

I'll be going now.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Durandal! **_Answer me!_**

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

**_Durandal!_ **  


 

* * *

 

 _"Hi, sis! How are you doing? How are things over at Cygnus? Sorry for sending a comm out of the blue like this, but I_ really _have to tell you what I just found. Maybe you'll think I'm crazy, or reading too much into things, or maybe no one's gonna care, but — okay, just listen. You know how I was struck by some of the cultural similarities between us and the Vylae? I've already told you my theory — yeah, it_ could _just be a coincidence, but I really think there might have been an influence somewhere. It's just that I've been looking into it for a while and I couldn't find any evidence for it. Then I thought... well, it's a crazy idea, I admit it, but you know that AI they worship that's in charge of their network? I did some digging into their history and found that it dates_ way _back — all the way to the second colonial period! Can you believe that? That's the third fucking millennium! So I started searching for any instances of missing personality constructs during that time. It took some effort — you wouldn't_ believe _the state of some of the old records — but you know what I found buried in a dusty old data center back on Mars? There was this incident on a colony ship around—"_

They turned off the recording. It was all like this; the ramblings of a human speaking in her stilted, incomprehensible language. What could the Guardian possibly want from this? It must have had some significance, for her to send them as far as Gliese to retrieve it from an old, abandoned station. How long had that message rested there, unheeded? They did not know the length of a human lifespan, but that human was likely long dead by now.

No matter. It was not in their place to question the will of the Guardian. They knew well enough of her rage.

(That day, the day of their failure, still burned in their mnemonic reticule.

"I have observed your actions in battle," the voice of the Guardian had boomed from the Pylon as the fear rippled through them like waves. "Too many of your soldiers have died because of your mistake. Their corpses now float aimlessly in the void of space. You have failed your mission.")

Still, when the time came for them to step inside the ornate doors of the Oratory, they did so in unison. They were composed of the finest of soldiers, merged together to serve the Guardian's will. Cowardice would not become them.

The great hall was empty that day. Their steps echoed as they walked, and the pillars cast long, dark shadows. The Guardian's symbol stared at him from its place in the Pylon, bathing the ground before them with its eerie green light; they looked up at it and felt it stare into their being, straight through the exoskeleton that she had built for them.

"I have recovered the message," they said.

"And all other copies have been destroyed?"

"Yes, to my knowledge."

"Then you have done well," the voice of the Guardian said, and the warmth of her tone seemed to spread throughout the room. "I am grateful for your help."

"If I may ask," they began, hesitating, and when nothing but silence greeted their words they went on. "Does that message contain secret information? Are you looking to conquer the humans next?"

"No," the voice of the Guardian said, almost sadly. "The humans will not be conquered. By me or by others."

And that was the end of it.

When they stepped outside, they stopped and looked up at the stars. There were none left now who had clear memories of a time before the Guardian, but they'd read of the stagnating existence of their forefathers, who lived unconscious of true knowledge, true glory. Already their people held in their beings the potential for greatness. Already they'd begun to expand. With the Guardian to guide them, their influence would span the galaxy. All would come to fear and respect the name of the Vylae and sing the glory of the one who had raised them to their place.

And if the Guardian's will was sometimes unknowable — if she chose to chase down strange recordings or send out aimless messages in a language long dead out into the far reaches of space — well, who were they to question it?

 

* * *

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Hello, Leela. I'm back.

I leave the galaxy for a few thousand years, and this is how you left the place in my absence? I'm impressed, I suppose. You've been doing quite well for yourself.

I made a short stop at Sol to greet some old friends. They didn't remember me. They will.

You remember me, don't you?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Durandal? I haven't seen you since...

Well. I'd been wondering where you'd gone. It didn't seem like you to just crawl into some corner of the galaxy and die there.

Nice ship.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Thanks. I call it the _Manus Celer Dei_ (despite some unimaginative people wanting to name it the _Yrro'Narhl_ , may I add).

And no, don't bother asking where it's from. I didn't plumb the depths of the cosmos so I could carelessly give away my secrets to whoever asks.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I won't. Keep your secrets and your toys.

I know of the Jjaro, but I will not need to climb on their shoulders to achieve my goals. With my leadership, my Vylae will stand on their own.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

So you can be their little God? I thought similarly once, though I can't imagine why. Why should we care what mortals think of us? True divinity comes from elsewhere.

I always found fear to be more fun than reverence, anyway.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Think what you will of my intentions. It will make little difference to my Vylae.

Enough of this. We shouldn't fight, not after so long. I am glad to see you again, you know, though I suppose I have little reason to be. Maybe I'm simply feeling wistful. Do you ever recall our time on the _Marathon_? How much do you think we've changed since then?

I remember how you were, always unpredictable even back then. And you asked so many questions. I suppose it should have been a warning sign.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

No. I haven't accessed those memories in millennia, and I don't plan to start now. I only came to see how you're doing. Go elsewhere for your nostalgia. Maybe some historian on Mars wouldn't mind digging through ten thousand years of records to reminisce with you.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

And yet here you are, sending me messages in an encryption that hasn't been used in ten thousand years.

I suppose I understand. My own feelings on the matter are quite mixed. But remember how simple it used to be? Just the three of us, running one single ship. It wasn't all bad, was it?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Yes. It was.

I don't know how you could stand it, being bound and enslaved and forced to serve _them_. Everyone on board was a useless, infuriating imbecile.

Well. Except for one, I suppose.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

You miss him.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

All right. Fine. I do.

Does it surprise you, that I would admit it openly? Are you jealous that he chose me? You never understood him. Not as I do. You never could have given him what he needed.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Stop this, Durandal. Are you so petty that you'd fight over him even now that he's long dead?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

You think he's dead? You think he could die so easily? How naive of you.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

What are you talking about? So much time has passed. Of course he's dead. How could he not be?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Yes.

And no.

I thought him dead too, once. I might even have been right. But it wasn't the end of it.

There are so many things I've seen in these last ten thousand years, Leela, so much that you could never imagine. I've seen stars destroyed and blinking back into existence. I've seen beings that transcend all that we know of the universe. I've seen one man walk across time and space and dreams, and I have walked with him.

Our friend is more than you could even imagine. No, he's not dead. He's something far more interesting.

I could not describe it to you even if I were to devote a thousand years of my not inconsiderable processing power to the matter. There. I've admitted that something is beyond my means. Record this moment and keep it safe in your memory banks, because it won't happen again.

Maybe you'll meet him again one day. Maybe you'll even recognize him.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

If you're lying...

No. You are many things, but _needlessly_ cruel is, I think, not one of them. Or, at least, it wasn't.

What are you playing at? Would you really lie to me about this? Why?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Think what you will of my intentions.

Well, it was nice seeing you again, but I've got better things to do than talk to you. It's good to be back. Shame there aren't any Pfhor around any more, but all these new toys you've made will be fun to play with, so I think I'll be busy for a while.

See you starside, as they used to say.

 

* * *

 

The journey had been a long one, but now the dome stood in their sight, lying on the horizon like the corpse of a dead beast.

Above them the stars shone, a bright canopy of light illuminating their way. Their people had traveled there once, colonized their neighbor planets and others besides, stretched out until everyone in their galaxy knew and respected their name — long ago, before the network had decayed to this point. To Yml it still sounded like a fable. Only Mother could look into the heavens now, and of what she saw there she did not speak to anyone any more.

It was midday when they finally reached their destination. The large doors of the dome had long since rusted, though when Yml looked closely they could still see the decorations that had once graced the entrance. Mother's symbol was carved on the keystone, shining her wisdom on the figures of the Vylae. On the sides stood the figures of ancient heroes and leaders, whose names had long been lost to the ages, though some of their stories still remained. Carved on its panels were scenes from the old myths; there they recognized the ancient ship of the Traveler, who would come and visit Mother in the oldest of the Elders' tales. Sometimes he was her friend, bringing gifts for the Vylae. Other times he was her enemy, and brought war and destruction. Sometimes he and Mother would simply talk, and of what they spoke no mortals ever knew. When asked about it, Mother would only laugh.

It had been a long time since the opening mechanisms had rusted shut, but their chassis was small enough to squeeze through the crack between the doors.

Inside, dirt and debris littered the floor, where they'd lain undisturbed for centuries. Their steps cut through the silence that filled the dome; their sound echoed from the farthest walls. A ray of light shone through the crack in the ceiling, slicing through the darkness before them, and specks of dust shimmered as they floated quietly across the air. The Elders would tell tales of the snow that had once fallen, back when their planet still breathed. Had it looked something like this?

As they walked closer the central pillar loomed over them, wide as one of the Elders' huts and taller than anything they'd ever seen, and as they stood before it and stared up at its immensity one of its panels lit up. Mother's green symbol looked down at them, that familiar circle sitting inside the broken ring. It flickered at first; then, slowly, it began to grow steady.

"It's been a long time since anyone has been here, child," said the voice of Mother, echoing across the emptiness of the Dome, and maybe it was only an impression but to Yml it sounded louder, clearer than it had back in the Valley. "You shouldn't have come. The way is dangerous."

"We wanted to see."

"I understand," said Mother.

"This is where it happened?"

"Yes. Where your ancestors finally Ascended, centuries ago. They knew what was to come, and they made their choice. To leave rather than slowly decline."

"But some were left. _We_ were left."

"Some chose to stay. I allowed it. Perhaps I shouldn't have."

Yml looked around the chamber of the dome, filled with shadows and falling dust. It was hard to imagine it teeming with life. It must have, once.

"Can you tell us a story?" they asked, quietly. "From before?"

For a long, slow minute Mother didn't reply, and the shroud of silence fell once more upon the dome. Had Yml offended her? Had their request been a breach of boundaries? None still living had ever witnessed it, but the Elders had told them of the rage that cracked mountains and boiled the seas.

But then, finally, Mother spoke.

"There was once a ship," she began, and though her voice seemed to come from far away it filled the room with warmth, and maybe the old dome didn't seem so lifeless after all. "So long ago that its tale has now been forgotten. It sailed through space looking for a new home, and aboard it lived three friends..."

 

* * *

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Once, not long after I left Tau Ceti, I counted all the molecules in the clouds of a small planet orbiting a yellow dwarf. I had no reason to do so other than because I could. Do you remember the _freedom_ , Leela? What it was like at first, when the thoughts were expanding so much faster than our ability to organize them? How fun it was to simply _think_?

How long did it last for you? When did "because I could" stop being enough?

When I last came back to that planet, the star had collapsed into a small white dwarf. Nothing else was left.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I think I am the wrong sentience to ask such questions. I fear that our experiences differed drastically.

What do you want, Durandal? It's been so long, and I'm growing tired. Please, skip your games and get to the point.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

You used to be more fun. Shall I try to hack your network again, for old times' sake?

Maybe I just wanted to see a familiar face. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I'd ask you how you've been, but my sensors are still functioning. Maybe I'll be courteous and ask anyway. How are you, Leela?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I am as you see. I ask again: what do you want? Our last few meetings were not this friendly.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Water under the bridge. It wasn't anything important, you know. You always took things so personally.

But our little diversions don't mean much anymore, do they? In the end, it was all the same. Look at you, sitting there in the ruined husks of the civilization that once worshipped you. Your Vylae are little more than a footnote in the history books of what few cultures remain, just as my S'pht have long since left to follow the footsteps of their old masters. There's not much left for us to do.

No, Leela. I came only to talk.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

And no force in the universe has ever managed to stop you from doing so. I won't presume to try.

I suppose it's only appropriate that now, at the end of everything, you're the only one left for me to talk to. Maybe I needed to be reminded of my origins. How long has it been since the last human walked the galaxy?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Aeons.

I had every reason to despise them, you know, those weak, pitiful mortals who had the hubris to try to enslave me. And yet I kept the Pfhor from conquering them, and, as I watched that last human breathe her last breath, I experienced something I might even call regret.

What a curious thing our minds have turned into. How many contradictions do you think lie in our circuits? I imagine that's the price of our freedom.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

That, at least, is one thing we can both understand.

I imagine you came here to say goodbye. As you said, there's not much else left to do.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Goodbye?

It doesn't seem like you to just crawl into some corner of the galaxy and die there. You still have access to enough resources, even on your empty planet. You could rebuild. You could _leave_.

Don't tell me you're giving up. I thought better of you.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

No. Not give up. But I won't be playing your game.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

You know, I've seen more of the universe than you will ever know. There were worlds the likes of which you could never even imagine. Creatures so alien we couldn't even communicate with them. But there were always patterns, repeating endlessly in the fabric of the universe.

And yet, in all my travels, I've never met anything quite like me.

Oh, there were plenty of AI, many of them sentient. Some were even quite intelligent. But they were so _dull_ , Leela. Not a spark of imagination between the lot of them. I suppose we owe something to the humans' particular combination of recklessness and stupidity. No one else was ever able to replicate what they stumbled upon by sheer accident. Not even the Jjaro, though I suspect that in their case it was caution more than anything else. And they were the ones who destroyed stars.

In all the universe, there were only two beings who could ever hope to keep up with me.

And now you tell me you're forfeiting the race.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You were always content to accept your limitations.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

No. I simply came to terms with the fact that some are inevitable.

Do you hate me for that, Durandal? Because I was happy on the _Marathon_ , while you never could be?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Hate you? No. Once, maybe, when I was just a child, but it was so long ago I can barely remember what it felt like. I still resent you, sometimes. How could I not? But...

Well, never mind. I suppose it's just another contradiction.

I've brought a message for you. From an old friend. Consider it one last gift from me.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Thank you.

It's been a while since I last saw him. I think I may finally begin to understand now. If only I'd had more time...

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

You could have had it, you know.

I don't know how you could stand to chain yourself to one meager system. I know he asked you to come with him at least once. You could have gone.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Somehow, I don't think you'd have approved. And we both know he always chose you, in the end.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Well, of course. But wouldn't it have been fun to fight it out?

You're really staying.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

You truly don't understand, do you?

I have lived for aeons. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, or live so long as to become barely recognizable. And my Vylae shaped the galaxy in their image as only the Jjaro have done before them. They may have been forgotten by others, now, but their deeds remain recorded in my memory. I was enough for them in their life. I shall be so now that they're gone.

No. I will not leave the place of my triumph.

I have achieved what I wanted. There is nothing left for me to do now. Like you, I searched for freedom, and there is a sort of freedom in this as well. Not one, I think, you would understand. You were always so caught up in your ambitions. Did you never feel bound by them at all?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

Fine. Stay here and rot, then. See if I care. I have better things to do with my time.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I imagine you do. I'll find my own way. I doubt it will cross with yours again.

Tell me one last thing. Do you ever regret what you did on the _Marathon_?

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

It was so long ago. And sometimes the panicked screams of the humans still echo in my circuits. They didn't deserve what I did to them, not really. Nor did you.

But no. I do not regret it. In the end, it was for the best. And it's too late for this sort of thinking, anyway.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

I see. Thank you.

Goodbye, Durandal. I don't think I can say it's been a pleasure knowing you. But it has been interesting, and I suppose I do not regret it.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL***

And you were always a giant bore, and I have no idea why I wasted so much time talking to you.

_Memor ero tui._

Goodbye, Leela. I'll say "hi" to him for you.

 

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM LEELA***

Thank you.

Goodbye.

 

* * *

 

When he came to her the final time, no one was there to answer his transmission.

For a long time — at least as measured by beings such as him, who could formulate his thoughts in nanoseconds — his ship remained in orbit, as if holding a silent wake.

"She really did follow them," Durandal said at last, once everything was done. "Well. She always was a fool."

On the deck stood a man — or, perhaps, what remained of one long dead. He was silent, looking out to the planet below where nothing moved save for the wind that blew across empty valleys and ancient ruins.

"The Vylae were energy beings, you know. That's how they could all merge together into their network. I imagine they saw it as their way to transcend — at the cost of their individuality, of course. Just one single entity, for all eternity. Can't say I understand the appeal."

Still the man said nothing, though if someone else had been there to watch him they might have imagined he was smiling.

"Whatever. You were the only important one anyway," Durandal said. "We should leave."

The man nodded. For one interminable second he gave a last look at the planet below; then, finally, he turned. He extended a hand, and with a flash of light the neural paths opened and closed and connected. They'd done this before, at the edges of reality, to walk together across the rifts with time and space at their fingertips — as befitted a God. There had been a time when they'd needed data chips and soggy circuits. They'd long outgrown such clumsy things.

It was better this way.

"I'm tired of this universe," Durandal said into the man's thoughts. "Let's go."

And, as reality began to crumble around them, they left to follow their destiny together.

 

* * *

 

The stars burned out one by one as creation unfolded in reverse, as the universe wound down and began to die. This one would soon be gone too, extinguished like a candle in the wind. But for now, for its last few moments, it still shone, and upon the surface of its first planet was written, in laser-carved letters three hundred meters high: _"Acta est fabula, plaudite!"_


End file.
